Ghost of Hope
by TheGirlWithFarTooManyIdeas
Summary: Eidolon meets a ghost who claims she knows how to kill Zion. David isn't sure what to think - she often talks about future events as though they were chapters in a story - but as her knowledge proves true, he begins to recall the hero he abandoned in the thin hope of 'saving humanity'. SI.
1. Chapter 1

**Ghost from Earth**

_**Me: So...yeah. An Eidolon-friendly SI story. I wonder how well this will go over...at least it's relatively original? Aha? I hope you all enjoy it...it's been a while since I've been in a good enough place to do this sort of thing. I hope it's good. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Worm. **_

**Prologue**

_What would you do to get a happy ending?_

_I was pondering that question as I gazed at my laptop screen, debating between my dozens of Worm fic ideas for my first foray into the fandom. I kept wavering on it, bouncing from one thought to another, writing a page and then discarding it. Really, I could only blame half of my uncertainty on my depression – I just couldn't decide which idea would blossom into a decent story. I worried about getting Taylor or Amy's characterization right. And partly...well...the deck was so ridiculously stacked against the people of Earth Bet I wondered if a happy ending, even a bittersweet one, could be reached without authorial fiat. _

_I thought it was ironic that the story was billed as a 'realistic' superhero fiction, considering that the space whales made _no _sense as living creatures. As unfathomable eldritch horrors, absolutely, but 'realistic' monsters? No way. There were only a handful of silver bullets that could do any real damage to them, and even then getting into the position to do any good was an uphill struggle. _

_Maybe I should focus on 'in the loop'. How could people find out the things they needed to know?_

Few people on Earth Bet could imagine Eidolon debating whether or not it was worth it to get out of bed in the morning. Even his fellow architects at Cauldron rarely suspected how weighed down he was. Legend was most likely to notice, always willing to lend a sympathetic ear and an encouraging talk, but it had been a long time since he had honestly confided in his friend.

The thought of giving up had crossed his mind before. He'd tried, and failed, faced a life of being powerless to control his fate or even face life as a broken man. That's where the Doctor had found him. A pitiful creature, worthless to stand on his own power much less do anyone any good. Then – as if she'd stepped right out of a Disney movie – she'd made him the most powerful man in the world. He wasn't blind to what sort of woman she was; being an ambulance chaser was the least damning thing he could ascribe to her. But part of him would always be grateful, because she came to him at his lowest and raised him up. Because she came to him, he was able to protect other people, make a difference in the mad world they lived in. There were thousands of people who owed their lives to him.

Well. Not just him.

David's family was dysfunctional – had been for as long as he could remember. There hadn't been any violence, just an oppressive, hateful atmosphere propagated by endless arguments, threats and emotional manipulation. Escaping the house he'd grown up in had been a victory comparable to anything he achieved as Eidolon. It had been years since he'd spoken to either of his parents, and no matter how many times Nathan had carefully and casually raised the subject, he still felt no desire to do so. It had left scars. Sometimes he wondered how much of his social ineptitude was his own fault or simply a leftover factor. He'd never been good with people; not just in the I'm-at-a-friend's-party-and-I-can't-figure-out-how-to-politely-excuse-myself way, but the viscerally uneasy I-can't-say-_anything_-and-feel-safe sort of way. He had no childhood friends and could count the acquaintances he occasionally spoke to on one hand. Even as the loneliness ate away at him, he'd remained a compulsive loner for most of his life.

While he'd never acknowledged it, being rejected from the army hadn't been the first time he'd contemplated taking his own life. Some days were alright. Some days were hell. _What good are you, cripple?_

Then he'd become Eidolon. And he'd found himself pulled into Clark's orbit.

Clark –_ Hero –_ had been the most disorganized person he'd ever met; he could hardly find his own house without a map, yet he could navigate life and other people in a way that always stumped David. He was brilliant and cheerful and brave, he had a smile that promised however bad things could or would get, it would get better in the end. When they'd first met, Clark had done the lion's share of the talking; he immediately figured that David felt uncomfortable and kept tweaking his approach until they were immersed in casual conversation. The raven haired Tinker had thrown himself at the task of being David's _friend_, not just the co-worker he had to put up with, with the same determination he applied to everything in his life. David had never been so _baffled _by another person. For the longest time he couldn't figure out _why _Clark cared about being his friend; he kept thinking in circles before finally just asking him.

It was one of the few times Clark's smile faltered, just briefly. He said simply, sincerely - "_No one should be alone, David_. _It sucks._" A few days later, David had learned that Clark had been orphaned as a child; his only steady companion being his sister.

He couldn't pin point the exact moment...but all of a sudden, David realized he was completely safe with the other man. It was strange, given that he was technically the more powerful one between them. Yet there was no comparison. Clark taught him how to laugh, listened to him whenever his thoughts went to dark places, and was always, _always _so...so supportive. He seriously believed that David could be Superman...and frankly, David hated the idea of disappointing him.

He loved Clark. He didn't have the words for how precious the other man was to him, an irreplaceable fragment of his life.

They'd been working together for about four months before Nathan was abruptly dropped into their lives by the Doctor. He'd come out of the life support ward with the most powerful Blaster ability on record, yet had been incredibly uncertain and shy when he'd been brought to meet them. It was strange to remember him being unable to meet their eyes when now, he rallied armies of heroes and villains alike to fight unstoppable, world killing monsters.

At first, David had felt a bit prickly, not liking the idea of sharing the only friend he'd ever had with someone else. Nathan made him nervous, period – he was gorgeous while David was very plain, clever and charismatic whereas David still struggled with his social skills, and he was kind and good-natured just like Clark. Privately he feared that, since the other man was easier to get along with (_a better person, the dark voice would whisper,_), Clark would finally realize he wasn't worth sinking so much time into.

Clark figured this out in the first week and told him he was being silly; he had nothing to fear and everything to gain from Nathan joining them. At his urging, David tentatively tried to approach the man who'd become Legend a few times, some more successful than others. The tipping point was during a meet and greet. A young woman Nathan had saved had grabbed and kissed him in front of a crowd, and while David hadn't noticed it immediately, he realized that Nathan's body language was growing increasingly strained as the woman kept hovering near him. He made up a story about being called back to base and extracted them both from the party – he'd had about his fill of that place anyway – and asked Nathan if he was alright.

He'd never forget the man's reaction. He let out a sad laugh and responded that if he answered that, David would be revolted. He'd sputtered for a moment before asking how that would even be possible, unless he was secretly a supervillain?

The question had startled a less hysterical chuckle out of Nathan, who then rather candidly said that he would never feel comfortable around that woman, because she could never make him feel the way he felt around Clark. It had taken David longer than it should have for him to figure out what that meant, but mercifully when he _did _connect the dots he didn't say anything stupid. Instead he asked if Clark knew. ...Which, granted, wasn't a whole _lot _smarter, but at least it wasn't damaging. It wasn't until he registered the distress in Nathan's eyes that he scrambled to assure him that _no, _he wasn't the least bit put off by this knowledge, and he seriously doubted Clark would be either.

Nathan blinked a few times, asked him if he was serious. He reiterated his stance, confused, and nearly panicked when he saw the other man's eyes briefly well up. _(He didn't want to be the reason someone felt hated and unwanted.)_ Fortunately all was well. Clark might have been straight as an arrow, but he was sensitive and far more worried about his inability to reciprocate Nathan's feelings damaging their friendship than anything else.

Knowing that Nathan trusted him with that secret surprised David with how happy it made him. In seemingly the blink of an eye, Nathan transformed from a potential threat to his precious friend. He'd do anything to protect him.

Rebecca appeared quite some time after that. David had been initially unsure of her for completely different reasons. She was determined to be a hero, dedicating her every waking breath to it just like he did...but there was a cold streak to her, a ruthlessness more akin to Doctor Mother than Clark. It frequently bled through, despite her efforts – the violence, the recklessness, even occasional cruelty, all in the name of doing right by people who depended on her for protection and survival.

Surprisingly, that actually helped him get along with her. Rebecca had her demons, but he had his – they understood each other on a level their friends couldn't join. They could watch each other, make sure they stayed on the wagon. When Rebecca thought she might have feelings for Clark, David was the first person to learn about it.

He had three people he loved. Knowing they were there, being able to put their faces to the world, helped him get out of bed the day after Behemoth.

Endbringer. Herokiller. They still felt inadequate to describe that monstrosity. So many dead, the city destroyed...The stench of burnt flesh still haunted his nightmares. All that power, and he couldn't do anything. Innocent people, who'd trusted their lives to him, had died in the thousands. The monster simply came as it pleased, and then left. It was like he had never left the wheel chair.

Clark had talked to him that morning. He jokingly suggested his friend was secretly a telepath, knowing that he needed it. It was weak, and his voice cracked in the middle, but Clark chuckled anyway before gently coaxing him to come meet him for coffee.

...Nathan was recovering from injuries he'd sustained quelling a super-powered riot the day Doctor Mother and Contessa told him, Rebecca and Clark what Scion really was. David was still suspicious of that, frankly – he doubted Contessa would have risked Legend's life just to keep him out of the meeting, but considering what he knew now, he wouldn't be surprised if her power said to keep him away from the conversation.

_I started typing out a few sentences – a bit of dialogue between Hero and Eidolon. Unpopular opinion, maybe, but I quite liked David. I felt sorry for him. It wasn't a hundred precent confirmed that he was linked to the Endbringers, and even if it was, it wasn't really his fault. How do you blame someone for, effectively, sleepwalking? The mechanics of the whole thing bothered me immensely. Despite all he did wrong, no thanks to Doctor Mother, I didn't doubt for a minute that he wanted to be a hero, to help people, no matter what Taylor thought. That...and we had a few things in common when it came to insecurities..._

_Hero was the heart of my current thought process. I generally avoided WoG that wasn't in the text itself; JK Rowling's endless re-edits of Harry Potter lore had solidified that stance alongside the separation of book and game lore in Dragon Age. However, the little bits I found while trawling for information, dialogue, really anything about Hero had sparked my current thoughts. If he'd lived, the mission would have been just as much about improving the world and helping people as it was about saving everyone from Scion. Cauldron had a strong heart; Manton tore it out. _

_As if I didn't loath that utterly one-dimensional serial cannibal _enough_. _

_Seriously, if the Slaughterhouse Nine had only gotten _one _story arc, I would have liked them. As it was, however, the only one I could really tolerate was Burnscar._

...It was Clark's birthday today.

David sat up slowly and looked at his alarm clock. It was three in the morning; work didn't start until six thirty. He leaned against the headboard, softly hitting his head on the wall and staring unseeing into his rather spartan bedroom. His head hurt. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep for a long time.

_Worthless._

All that power and it was useless when he needed it the most.

_Have you actually succeeded in anything worthwhile, in the end?_

Clark...Hero...David had only started keeping memories – pictures, journals, the works – after he'd let his friend in; closer than anyone outside of Rebecca and Nathan. They were his family. _He was..._ The picture books were full of Clark's smiles, his laughter, the moments when he lifted them out of despair and uncertainty with his contagious confidence. Video records of incidental meetings, holidays, the precious few breaks they could afford to take after becoming the vanguard of humanity...well loved though they were, now they sat on a shelf untouched. He hadn't cried so much in his life when...when... ...He had never cried since. David had run out of tears, even though he still bled from a wound that would never heal.

It burned him, that Manton was useful to defeating Scion. It ate away at him every time Doctor Mother insisted the cannibal bastard had an invaluable ability and should be preserved for the battle for humanity. Instead of rotting in the Birdcage where he belonged (_it was better than he deserved_), the turncoat was free and alive while Clark was dead.

_I had known my powers were weakening. I should have warned him. I shouldn't have let him come. _

David had, in many brief, manic moments, considered going rogue. So he could put down the Slaughterhouse Nine for good, or die trying. But he was in charge of the Seattle Protectorate, and there was always trouble here and there that demanded his attention. People who needed help. Between that and Cauldron business, the thoughts wouldn't last...though they always returned.

_Would you even recognize me if you could see me now, Clark?_

He knew so much of it was wrong – so wrong. That was the worst part. Even as he grew numb, there was a voice in the back of his head that shrieked one thing every time Doctor Mother introduced her newest crime against humanity – _Clark would have never agreed to this_. There had used to be times where David would argue loudly, strenuously, against dumping the Case 53s out into the world with no memories to guide them – against leaving parahuman warlords to rule over ruined, failing countries – against half the proposals the Doctor brought to the table, really. He'd remembered how fiercely Clark had been against sacrificing their souls in the face of the terrible odds, and he'd tried to maintain that spirit for the sake of his departed (_murdered_) friend. But slowly...he'd just gone numb. He accepted what the Doctor told him. It...there was simply too much...

Leviathan joined Behemoth, then so did The Simurgh. Cities destroyed, dozens and hundreds of capes dead in feeble attempts to defend their homes. He didn't envy Rebecca's perfect memory; the stench of the dead, cities swamped in water, screaming citizens walled off and abandoned to their fates...he knew it was more visceral for her, forever present when she let her mind wander. Aside from the Enbringers themselves...every day, there seemed to be new trouble. They were outnumbered and nearly outgunned by the villains, so numerous that the only saving grace was the varying degrees of severity when it came to their crimes. Africa was a nightmarish mess, a plain warning of what might be left of the world even if they managed to save it from Scion. Japan had never recovered from Leviathan's visit to Kyushu. The CUI threatened everything around it with its Orwellian, dogmatic policies. Every day seemed to bear new troubles.

Even trying to halt the loss of civilization...David had gone cold, numb. All that he could really focus on – the only thing he was certain he could succeed in, if he could only find a way – was that his powers were fading. He _had _to regain his old strength. They were loosing this fight. He couldn't even say if all the terrible things that he had been a part of were achieving anything. But if he became as strong as he was when he still had Clark, he knew he could do more. That they would stop loosing ground, even to the Endbringers.

...David could almost picture the look on Clark's face if he'd been presented the suggestion Doctor Mother had brought to him and Rebecca some time ago. Parahuman feudalism within America. Thomas Calvert believed it was within his abilities, and Rebecca believed that, with the Protectorate flagging, they should search for other alternatives to keep society from collapsing. _I'd probably have had to spend a power slot to avoid being rendered deaf. He never would have accepted it. _

He found himself moving on some subconscious desire. Leaving his bedroom, he crossed the dark hall, the old wooden floor creaking under his feet, until he reached the bathroom. Flicking the light on, he opened the cabinet and pulled out a straight razor, flipping it open.

The blade wasn't anything special...but it was sharp. David wasn't a Brute at base – he had to consciously run one such power to benefit from it.

_I rounded out the conversation and found myself struck with a sharp bought of melancholy. I had exactly one 'best friend' in all my life so far, and the idea of her being murdered – and said murderer being let go in order to save thousands of lives – sat really heavily in my stomach. Sure, _I _knew that Manton's vaunted ability was pretty worthless in the grand scheme of the Scion battle, but it really wasn't that obvious from a ground level. The Siberian seemed unstoppable. If I knew my world was going to end, and had some power to influence it – what would I do in order to stop that? What would I do to ensure that everyone I loved, everyone I knew and everyone I didn't survived? _

_The idea was so huge I couldn't really come up with an answer, even as I stared at my laptop. Earth Bet's answers seemed easy because...well, I'd been _given _them by reading the book. Would I be much better than Doctor Mother if I had to save the world by myself?_

_I wanted to believe I would be. I hoped that God would guide me. _

_I began typing again, shaking my head to drive the emotional tailspin away. David needed help. He needed an _epiphany_. Him and Rebecca both. How might they get it? They were so jaded that it would take something just short of a semi-omnipotent being informing them at length how they were screwing up. Time travel was tempting, and I'd read this lovely Neon Genesis Evangelion fic that used a family of gods to set records straight...though there were already some supernatural aspects to that series, so it would feel more out of place in Earth Bet. I tapped my fingers against the keys. _

_I'd debated and discarded various ideas for parahuman OC ever since I first started reading. The one that felt most natural in the setting was a Changer/Trump somewhat unimaginatively called Skinchanger. And her baggage...I don't think she would really work in a fix fic. I needed a different sort of character for David's sake..._

_...My eyelids were heavy...I typed up another sentence, David thinking about being honest with Legend, before leaning back on the couch and closing my eyes. Maybe my dreams could grant some suggestions..._

David spun the razor around his fingers, watching it catch the light. It would be so easy. The weight would be lifted from him forever. Those who suffered from what he had permitted would have justice. And maybe he would finally see Clark again...

Abandon Rebecca and Nathan to face the end of the world without him. Leave Seattle without a leader. Leave the world without having done far more good than wrong.

He flipped the blade twice, snapped it shut and put it away.

* * *

A hot shower drained some of the stress from his frame. That was usually a good sign. He put on some street clothes – there was still an hour and a half before he could go to work – and gave his head a shake. _Just drive, just drive. _David stepped out of the bathroom and paused. There was a strange chill in the air. Was the furnace breaking down again?

The lights flickered, cut out for a second, and then came on.

David tensed.

It could be nothing; probably _was _nothing. But he'd been attacked in his home before. Only two had known who he was, mind you – the others were victims of circumstance and some exceptionally unlucky street punks. However, each time it had proven an unpleasant surprise. This was the only place he could really rest...

No sound. But the chilly feeling persisted.

The power came to him without his bidding; a thinker ability that sensed the presence of other parahumans. He gave it a push with his will, and...nothing. Frowning, he walked down the hall toward the stairs. The downstairs light was still on; he might have just forgotten it earlier. It wouldn't be the first time. _This might be why Lightspeed calls me an old man when she thinks I can't hear her, _David thought ruefully, a familiar mixture of frustration and reluctant amusement surging in him at the thought of his most troublesome Ward.

Gravity control. Mental compulsion. David began to make his way down the stairs. The lights flickered again, and this time a few of them winked out completely. He reached the landing and looked into his living room...

A startled gasp escaped him.

The figure whirled around. She – the long hair suggested it was a girl – was completely translucent. She was a starry, shimmering image straight out of a movie; he could see her and see _through _her if he wasn't concentrating. She wore typical street clothes, she was of average height...but she wasn't present. She wasn't there...

His thinker power insisted there was no one in the room. His eyes said differently. His power was weak, fading, but it had never blatantly failed him.

"I must be dreaming."

The statement came from _her, _not him. Her voice was clear as a bell...young, feminine, and moreover, it was just as shocked as he felt.

"I doubt it. I'm not much of a lucid dreamer." He responded flatly, wondering if she could hear his heart racing in the quiet. _She must be a Stranger of some sort, _he realized. _At least she seems confused, so she's not an assassin._ "What are you doing in my house?"

"Your house?!" She sputtered. "Hey, I was on _my _couch when I fell asleep! I think if I could sleepwalk into another person's apartment, I would have noticed a long time ago!" She took a shaky breath. "And if I'm not dreaming, how are you glowing green? Is that a weird new flashlight?"

_...She's VERY confused. Maybe she's a new trigger? _"...You don't know who I am?" Plain and ordinary looking he may be, but his powers, when in use, made him instantly recognizable.

"Why would I?" She crossed her arms and frowned at him. "I don't usually dream of people I know. It's an odd thing, but it's true."

"...You're serious." This was surreal. David couldn't remember the last time someone saw his powers and didn't make the mental connection.

"And you're funny. Why would green light be some sort of giveaway?" She raised her chin. "Are you a Green Lantern? I'm not a huge DC fan, but that's the first thing that jumps to mind." She looked around. "Though why would I dream up a Green Lantern in his house instead of in space?"

David floundered for a minute, baffled. "No! I...really? Green Lantern? I'm amazed you remember that." His father had written comics, before Scion arrived. Loosing his preferred job had been just one source of his bitterness.

"What's that supposed to mean? The movie wasn't _that _bad...I mean, it wasn't amazing, but it was alright for what it was. There are worse comic book movies." She said the words completely seriously, like it was an argument she'd had before. "...And I'm arguing with a figure in my dreams. Maybe my brother isn't the only one with a bit of a complex."

"You're not dreaming!" Was this conversation real? "Dear god..."

"I have to be," She retorted. "Where I come from, people don't glow."

"...This is Earth Bet! How can you say that with a straight face?!"

"Earth...Bet? Ah!" She clapped her hands together. "I'm dreaming about Eidolon?! Now I understand... it's because I was writing that story..." She smiled sweetly at him. The gesture startled him so much his heart skipped a beat. "David. You're David. You need to find a way to defeat Scion."

"...What did you just say?"

**End Prologue**

_**It was a very close call over who my SI would partner up with. I was torn between Legend and Eidolon for the longest time...it was when I started writing a bit of freestyle to get inside David's head that I decided definitively on him. I'll give Legend center stage in a different idea; the poor guy is criminally underutilized in Worm proper. (He doesn't even get a first name!) David, however, lends himself very easily to a character piece and I look forward to writing more from his perspective. **_

_**Next up - No, David, we need to go to Brockton Bay, now!**_

_**Read and Review please! **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Ghost of Hope**

**I'm alive! I've just been dealing with my somewhat chaotic personal life...which I've been doing for a while, actually. Some things have a way of creeping up on you. And this chapter proved to be a bit tough to write in places. Sorry for the wait and thank you kindly to all who reviewed.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Worm.**

**Chapter 1: Partners!**

Brockton Bay was a faded echo of the thriving port city David had spent his childhood in.

He'd only lived here for seven years. Of all things, it was the family financial situation that saw them move to Seattle; painfully ironic to think about now that the block he'd lived in was a slum controlled by the Empire 88. His memories of the city were pretty faded, all things considered, and his had little emotional attachment to what did remain (_he cut himself off of everything human, except a few tethers he couldn't live without)_, but looking at the ruins left by the advent of Scion was deeply frustrating.

Which, on top of what this night has already turned into, was saying something.

"You can't be more specific than just _the docks_?" He half snapped at the ghost trailing after him. "That covers almost a third of the city."

The young woman let out a faintly exasperated noise. _'I'm telling you, I don't know the street address or anything. My knowledge on today isn't quite that specific. And besides, it's gonna be hard to miss if he lights up before we find them.'_

"I'm still not sure I believe you," He said, even as he pushed off the roof of the apartment he'd been standing on in search of a vantage point.

She snorted. _'You believe me enough to cross three states in the middle of the night, and I'll have corroborative evidence soon enough. I want to help you, David. I would never screw with you on something as serious as this.'_

David sorely wanted to ask why a girl with the power to control bugs is as important to her Plan as powerful precogs, the greatest healer cape in the world, or the unchaining of an artificial intelligence, but something kept the question behind his tongue. For as nonsensical as it seems, whenever he challenged her on her knowledge, she told him something that left him reeling. He wasn't sure he _wanted _to know why she was so set on ensuring Taylor Hebert became a hero, even above gaining Tattletale's cooperation.

There was also the matter of a probationary Ward shoving a young girl in a locker full of toxic waste, leaving her there for over an hour, and getting away with it thanks to her handler. Had it not been for his own miserable experiences within high school, he would have been tempted to laugh that off as something out of a cartoon. However, he knew better than most people how vindictive people could be if they thought they could avoid consequences_...especially _teenagers_. _How did Director Piggot let that happen right under her nose? If that got out, the damage it would do to the PRT was...immense. Especially in Brockton Bay, where true victories were few and far between. This couldn't stand. Shadow Stalker had to learn, once and for all, that having powers didn't exclude her from the rules keeping society from tearing itself apart.

That aside... maybe David isn't nearly as fond of or as comfortable with young people as Nathan, but he can't know about those events and let it stand when it would cost him nothing to fix it.

Even if the mere idea of dealing with high school fallout makes him feel faintly sick.

He really shouldn't be here by himself; he should report to Cauldron, get Rebecca and have her go over what the girl told him – verify the truth. Hell, he should at _least_ tell them where he was going. But he hasn't done either of those things, even though he can hardly believe half the things she's said, and came here because – because – he had to see it, had to see events unfold as she told him they would. Because if it's true, if _half of it _is true –

A plan. A direct and concise way to defeat Zion, to _kill _him and save all of humanity. Not some nebulous ill-defined _Path;_ no more flailing around in the dark, no more reason to accept monsters and serial killers as necessary –

_Realistic, realistic_, he told himself. Even if its true – _if it was true –_ problems outside of Zion wouldn't vanish overnight. The hero to villain ratio still meant that appeasement and social maneuvering was no less important. The balancing act wouldn't vanish, it would just change...

_'...David? Are you ignoring me?'_

"I'm thinking," He responded sharply, and he was about to retort with hername – it bugged him that she kept using his given name despite the fact he's in costume – when he realized something. A hot spike of embarrassment cut off his sentence, and he was glad for the mask. "I'm not certain you ever told me your name."

_'Didn't I?'_ She let out a small involuntary chuckle. _'I guess I got carried away. Or maybe it's the dream, making me miss things._' He'd given up on trying to convince her she wasn't sleeping, so he just sighed instead. '_I'm sorry. My name's Elena.'_

"Elena," He repeated, slowing his flight slightly as he glanced over at her. Her smile was self conscious; even her ethereal visage can't obstruct that. She had to be at least ten years younger than him, probably more. She was pretty, though hardly striking by most people's metric, and prone to dry remarks when irritation set in. (_at least, that was his strong impression at this point.)_ As far as he could tell, her form was completely intangible and invisible to everyone except himself, which convinced him she'd triggered with a Stranger/Thinker package of some stripe. Maybe her trigger event was so severe (_what event would result in a power that disconnected her with the world so completely?_) she developed traumatic amnesia. Or it was a side effect of her power.

That didn't explain the seemingly perfect knowledge of the immediate past, present and future...Doctor Mother had said that precogs couldn't predict Scion or the Endbringers, only the results of their actions. Yet that didn't stop Elena from knowing things she shouldn't, down to the finest details. He was missing something here, a single puzzle piece that would allow all of this to make sense, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Maybe he needed to think about it more...

That thought was cut off by a pillar of fire exploding out of a street in the distance. David came to an abrupt halt, staring wide-eyed as distant shrieks of alarm rose from the ground below. Elena, however, let out a mirthless chuckle and turned to him with her arms crossed. _'I do believe that's your cue,'_ She said with a mild tone wildly at odds with the situation at hand.

Pyrokenisis...the only other parahumans in Brockton Bay who possessed that ability were Spitfire and Circus. Neither of whom could, or were known, to use it on _that _scale.

"_**Because a few hours from now, a suicidal young girl with the power to control bugs is going to take on Lung in order to protect some teenagers. And if you don't talk to her first, one of the villain gangs will get her, and you will **_**not****_ like what happens next. Rebecca, even less so."_**

David's heartbeat picked up.

* * *

As Taylor watched the most terrifying villain in Brockton Bay make his way up the building towards her, she took a moment to dimly contemplate what might be written on her tombstone. Praise? Grief? '_Here lies Taylor Hebert, a total idiot who thought she could fight Lung'? _Maybe it wouldn't matter. Hell, maybe Lung wouldn't even leave a body to be found; her dad would be left to wonder what had become of her... Well. At least he wouldn't be able to kill those kids.

That had to count for something.

The upper half of Lung's body had just emerged over the side of the building when a green light shimmered for a brief moment. The infamous supervillain didn't even get a chance to look up – a blast of super-heated energy struck him from above, driving him straight into the pavement several stories below.

Taylor sucked in a breath of blessedly clearer air, dazed and slightly in shock at the unexpected assistance. Lung's screech of outrage was cut off by a second blast; the earsplitting crunch of pavement told her he'd been in mid-jump. A moment later, a figure in green landed on the edge of the roof. He looked over the edge for a few moments; when firelight filled the alley again, Taylor heard something that sounded faintly like '_you've got to be kidding me' _before the cape turned slightly to look at her.

"Are you hurt?" He asked. He had an older man's voice, a tired tone that slightly reminded her of her father.

Whatever response Taylor might have stuttered out if she'd met any of the local Protectorate died a violent death as the fire below allowed her a better look at her rescuer. Briefly she wondered if she was hallucinating from smoke inhalation; the thought was only discarded because Lung likely wouldn't let her live long enough to see things. Sure, Alexandria had been her personal hero as a child, but as a cape geek she had long held the Triumverate in near reverence, so to see the most powerful man on Earth short of Scion personally intervene to save her upended the known world.

"Are you hurt?" Eidolon repeated, a faint note of concern bleeding through that exhaustion.

Taylor tried to muster up a bold, casual response; something like _of course not, this is just an average day in Brockton Bay sir. _All that came out, however, was a squeaking noise dangerously close to what you heard from cape fangirls. She shook her head.

"Good," He sighed. "Stay there. He's still trying to ramp up." With those words – ascribing no reaction to the escalating power of the city's most dangerous villain greater than mild irritation – he stepped off the side of the building and disappeared. Lung roared again, followed by the sound of laser fire. Taylor briefly why Eidolon was using brute force before realizing it was a distraction – or a means to keep Lung in one place. Being the only cape aside from the Fairy Queen who could use multiple unrelated powers simultaneously, it was more likely he already had a Master power active.

Powers, she thought somewhat hysterically, could be so incredibly unfair.

There was one final, very definitive sounding _thud _after which the alleyway became quiet again. Hesitantly, she made her way to the edge of the roof and peered into the dimly lit street. Lung was lying in a foot deep crater in the pavement, slowly shrinking back down to his original size while Eidolon stood several feet away, watching cautiously. Taylor blinked a few times. There was...some sort of glittering light down there? Like silver and stars. But when she tried to focus on it, she got a headache, and then it disappeared.

She thought it was hovering near Eidolon, though. Strange.

Lung, now in human form, lay perfectly still. Eidolon knelt next to his downed opponent, a soft glow surrounding his hand. Whatever he was doing – checking for a pulse, drugging the villain to ensure he stayed unconscious, it was hard to tell from her vantage point – it only took a moment. Then he stood, and in a blink he was standing a few feet away from her. She nearly squeaked again. It amazed her, a bit; after fifteen months of barely being able to experience anything but exhaustion, distress and general unhappiness...that she could even _feel_ such basic things glee, nervousness and – _excitement, _for lack of a better word. He wasn't Alexandria; but he saved her. When was the last time someone had done anything to help her?

"T-Thank you." She managed to keep her voice mostly level! Progress!

"No need for that," Eidolon dismissed it mildly. It was impossible to read his expression due to the full face mask, but Taylor felt like she was being examined carefully. "You don't look familiar. Are you a new trigger?"

"Trigger?" Taylor parroted, confused. "Um, I haven't heard that word yet."

The Triumverate hero paused for a moment, his head tilted slightly. "Trigger Events are the name given to the moment powers manifest. It's been a while since I've seen the current Protectorate ENE lineup, but I don't remember seeing a costume so...visually distinct."

She flushed. "I-I'm new. The outfit – um – I hadn't intended it to look this edgy. It's spidersilk, mostly, and it wasn't until I set it up and started painting that I realized – it's really hard to make bugs look non-threatening. Or to find a name that doesn't make you sound like a villain or a complete dork."

Eidolon started slightly, then let out a small, soft chuckle. Her heart skipped a little; Eidolon had something of a reputation for being severe, serious and unapproachable, but the sound of his laughter was so _genuine_. With a jolt, she thought that it reminded her of her dad...the few times something would make him laugh, it seemed an involuntary sound, as if he couldn't quite remember what joy or amusement truly felt like. "Some powers don't exactly lend themselves to heroic imagery," He agreed. "Not easily, at any rate."

She giggled; he would know that better than most, after all.

"Bugs, then..." His voice grew mild again. "What possessed you to stand and try to fight Lung instead of running? He's not in your weight class." There was a flicker of silver next to him. It was quick, and Taylor wondered if she'd imagined it, but...

"Well...I didn't intend to?" She fidgeted. "I – I stumbled on him giving some orders to his men. Telling them to slaughter some kids who'd made him angry. I...I don't have a phone, yet. I couldn't let him do that, so I set bugs on them." She sighed in defeat. "I'd hoped that enough spider venom could knock him out before his power really kicked in, or weaken him enough that he wouldn't want to fight. I misjudged the dosage, I guess."

"So that's why his regeneration was still in overdrive after he passed out," Eidolon mused. "It was decent strategy, though you should be more certain of the variables in the future." He turned towards her. "It was brave, what you did. Stupid, but brave. You'd make a good hero."

Something akin to a sob escaped Taylor before she could stop it. Her mind darted back to Emma's endless belittlement, Sophia's violence, Madison's pettiness, the apathy of everyone who just watched them work to destroy her. Yet here was this man, half a god on Earth, saving her from trouble and telling her she was a hero.

"I...I've been thinking about it," She said unsteadily. It wasn't exactly true – the idea of dealing with other teenagers, turning her superhero life into an extension of school, was unappealing to the say the last. Yet... "But...well. Um. My, my life's a bit of a mess right now. I'm not sure I could j-juggle official status on-on top of everything."

There was that flicker of silver again. _What is it?_

Eidolon let out another small laugh. Taylor was getting the impression that he didn't laugh often. If at all. "The difficulties of being a teenager," He said. When she started, eyes widening behind her mask, he made a placating gesture and said, "Your voice gives you away. Most independents I've met use voice scramblers to obstruct potential clues to their identity. Something to think about."

"Oh," She managed, feeling her cheeks heat up. _I hadn't even thought of that._

"You'd be safer in the Wards," Eidolon said seriously. "The usual rate for independents avoiding being impressed into gangs or worse ranges from six to eight months, and Brockton Bay is no exception. And that aside...you fought Lung, defied him and survived. You were there when he was defeated. The ABB will not take that lightly, and the two capes they have left have everything to prove with their master incapacitated."

Taylor swallowed. "You don't have to agree to anything right away," The older man assured her. "But do think about it. The Protectorate in this city is in need of good capes. Until you make a decision...stay under the radar, and try to avoid the docks. Take care of yourself."

"I will. Thank you...a-again."

* * *

_'Dear lord, can you ever have conversation with a stranger that isn't hopelessly awkward?'"_ Elena asked him as the girl – _Weaver, she'd called her –_ vanished down the dark roads. '_I mean, I totally get it, meeting new people is incredibly nerve wracking and it's never clear exactly what you should say, but I didn't think you'd need that much help.'_

"...It was just as you said." David whispered. His hands were shaking, he noted dimly.

He'd been monitoring 'Weaver' via a passive thinker power. Everything she'd said had been honest, and her emotions were a riot of shock-elation-distress-amazement and the sort of joyful sadness that came with a painful feeling or memory being expunged. She really was just an unlucky girl who wanted desperately to be a hero – the desire for which had been the biggest barrier between her and suicide.

He couldn't be suspicious of that, or resent it. Not when it was so much what he lived with every single day since Clark's murder.

_'Mmm-hmm.'_ To her credit, she only sounded moderately smug. The roar of a motorcycle was drawing closer and closer._ 'Believe me now? Armsmaster's coming up, we should brainstorm a reason you haven't called ahead.'_

"Colin." David murmured, turning away from Lung's still-prone form to the alley entrance. Elena made a faintly surprised sounding noise. "It's been a long time since I saw him outside of Endbringer fights."

_'Huh. He was part of the first official Wards team, I suppose you'd know his real name.'_ Elena said, pondering. She tilted her head and gave him a curious look._ 'You remember him from back then?'_

"Sort of." The motorcycle turned the corner and came to an abrupt stop. Its rider swung off and took a few steps forward. Elena let out an admiring whistle and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like '_looks even cooler than I imagined before, whoa'. _The familiar figure came to a sharp halt.

"Eidolon?" He demanded; even the voice filter couldn't conceal his shock. "Is that you, sir?"

_'He's testing out his new lie detector,' _Elena mused. '_It's a really handy piece of machinery.'_

"Yes," David answered shortly, inclining his head slightly. "Armsmaster. It's been a while. Do you have backup on the way?"

Armsmaster took a brief look at Lung and replied, "I'll radio it in. Is he-?"

"Unconscious, for the time being." David frowned, knowing he would have to tread carefully here. The lie detector complicated things. "He's unrelated to what brought me here so late. He was in the process of attacking a young independent when I happened across him."

Armsmaster was too professional to curse when he wasn't under a titanic amount of stress, but David suspected he hadn't taken kindly to that. "Miss Militia, Lung is down. I need transport as soon as possible; I'll send you the coordinates." He paused. "Good." Then he returned his full attention to the man who'd been one of the three overseeing his initial days a Ward. "Was the independent harmed?"

"No." His lip twitched. "She was remarkably reckless, considering her base powers when measured against his, but I had time to subdue him before he could do her any serious harm."

"Did you offer her a position in the Wards?"

David resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, though for the moment I'd rather she kept her head down and avoided pubic attention. With Lung in custody, Bakuda and Oni Lee will be making a power play. I'd rather they didn't target a lone teenager." Knowing that Colin would likely belabor the point, he continued quickly, "A source approached me with a number of warnings I cannot pass on at the moment, except one – the Protectorate ENE has a leak. Several, in fact."

It was hard to tell visually, since Armsmaster held himself in parade rest whenever he was in armor, but David was pretty sure he tensed up. "Are...are you _certain, _sir?"

He nearly laughed, which would have been a poor idea, though he managed to catch himself. "Relatively certain, yes. Which is why I can't explain my biggest concern until I've dealt with it – if what I've been told is true-" _'Really?' _Elena snarked at him; he would have thrown her an exasperated look if he had the chance. "-it requires both my immediate attention and extreme caution."

_'Well,' _She mused, _'That's far more close to reality than your reaction to Echinda in the original future'. _

Some days, David envied Nathan more than ever.

Armsmaster paused for a moment, then nodded in acceptance. He was still enough of a company man to take one of the higher ups at face value, it seemed. "What shall I tell Director Piggot?"

"That I'll have a report for her as soon as possible," David deadpanned. Elena's startled laughter smarted a bit. He wasn't _completely _humorless, damn it!

He waited until the PRT van arrived and Lung was secured, stoically ignoring the shocked stares and random questions thrown in his direction. Then he took back to the sky again, reaching heights that would make him difficult to spot from below as he moved across the cityscape.

"So...the Travelers. Where are they?"

_'Hm. If they're not with Coil already, they're somewhere in the city. Coil doesn't hire then in earnest until Bakuda goes on her bombing spree-'_

"Which she _won't_," He said with savage certainty. "I will _never _allow it."

She gave him a beaming smile at that, apparently not the least bit irritated at being interrupted. '_-and he won't have approached them with the offer until after he got Dinah. Otherwise the pretense of being able to spoof the Simurgh's little plot would fall through.' _She tapped her chin. '_You know...it might be expedient just to use the Clairvoyant to reach them. We're going to have to call in to Cauldron in order to remove Noelle's power, after all – might as well make full use of the resource.' _

He sighed. "And what exactly am I going to tell them? That a voice in my head told me where to find a Simurgh victim? The Doctor might just drop dead of a heart attack."

_'Oh, lovely. That would make it a win-win.'_

It was somewhat disturbing how cheerful Elena sounded saying that.

**End Chapter**

_**Yeah, Elena was not so subtly helping David through about half of his conversation with Taylor so he wouldn't step on her buttons. She hasn't told him that Taylor herself becomes Brockton Bay's warlord; for one thing to avoid talking about what happens to Alexandria because of that, and for another so it wouldn't color his initial response to her. **_

_**I avoided a typical thousands word long info dump where she explains basically everything to David all at once because I generally find those scenes fairly boring and wanted to avoid one. I hope no one's disappointed or finds it too disjointed; David **_**will **_**flash back to various things she's told him as he goes about preventing Brockton Bay from becoming a giant mess and setting up the Golden Ending (haha). **_

_**Read and Review please!**_


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